


Anyone Who had a Heart

by WonderfulMidnight



Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Broadway RPF, Real Person Fiction, Tim Curry (Actor) RPF
Genre: Adult Language, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Implied Slash, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 11:17:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 22,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6751795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WonderfulMidnight/pseuds/WonderfulMidnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in New York City in late January, 1982. <br/>Tim Curry has a starring role on Broadway and a new love. When everything is going right, something is bound to go wrong, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Real Person fic. I do not own Tim Curry (how delicious that would be) nor anything that he does. By writing this fic, I am not revealing or implying anything about Mr. Curry nor his sexuality. As I have never met Mr. Curry nor anyone associated with him, I have no knowledge as to his sexuality or anything else about him and this is FICTION. 
> 
> Title from song on Tim Curry's first album, Read My Lips

Tim Curry was content, probably more content than he had been in years. His career was hot. He had the title role in the most popular show on Broadway. He was lauded by critics, including the New York Times' Clive Barnes, who had skewered him only a few years before when The Rocky Horror Show premiered and died quickly on the Great White Way. Tim certainly felt vindicated and respected by the praise heaped on him now for his titular role in Amadeus. However, that was not the only reason that he found himself humming a tune in spite of the blustery, frigid wind that buffeted his lithe frame. The other reason, and perhaps the strongest cause of his bliss, was a man named Alec Blanchard.  
*****  
They first met in New York in October of 1978 while Tim was on tour promoting his first album. Tim and his band were playing three shows at the Bottom Line in Greenwich Village and Alec knew he wasn't going to miss that show. Like so many, he had first noticed Tim Curry in the Rocky Horror Picture Show and then he had made a point to see Tim perform more than once in his second Broadway venture, Travesties. Alec had been impressed that the same man could bring two such different characters to life so wonderfully. His father was a frustrated actor, performing in community theater, so Alec had some notion of what it took to be a successful actor. The elder Dr. Blanchard, his father, was a renowned doctor in New York and had treated many famous people, some of whom became family friends so Alec was not mesmerized by fame. He had seen up close what it took to become a success in the business of show. Success demanded a lot of hard work and sacrifice as well as a bit of luck.

Alec's brother and cousin, Ken and Patrick, had gone with him to the Bottom Line. Although the three of them were in their mid-thirties, they liked Rocky Horror and appreciated the religious fervor of the film's acolytes. It wasn't a ritual with them nor was it a regular activity but the movie was an occasional enjoyment. The exuberant trio was now seated at a table near the stage and Alec in particular watched Tim closely as he performed. The way he moved, his voice, his flirtation with the audience...Alec was smitten. He needed to meet Tim, see him close up, hear his voice. It wasn't the entertainer that bewitched him, it was the mystery of the man.

The English rocker's command of the venue was impressive. From the moment he took the stage, the audience adored him and hung on his every utterance, shrieking with joy bordering on hysteria. Alec could imagine the throng of devotees blindly following Tim off a cliff or, if he asked, to a major bank and robbing it blind. Alec imagined Tim as the Pied Piper and he laughed as he realized that would make him a fat, bank robbing rat.

In the next moment, both of their lives changed. 

Tim began to sing Sloe Gin and Alec was riveted. This was his favorite track on the album and he felt those lyrics to his core. He had lived them. The first time he heard the track on the album, he had cried. To hear the song live was almost more than he could bear. Alec felt himself choke up, his eyes fill with tears. That was the instant when, from the stage, Tim's eyes met his.

As Tim had hustled onto the stage that night and began the first song, he looked out at the raucous crowd, basking in their adoration. As always, from the moment he hit the stage he was searching for one person to sing to. That person helped him focus, especially during the songs that were very personal and close to his heart, such as Sloe Gin. Despite skimming over the crowd a few times, he had not yet found that person for this show. He never knew who or what he was looking for, but there was almost always someone that gave him a spark when he saw them. It could be a man or a woman, older or younger, attractive or not so much, it wasn't their looks that moved him. He didn't really know what it was. There was an unidentifiable something, as the French might say a certain je ne sais quoi. He knew it when he saw it. He called that audience member The One. All of this was only in his head, of course. He had never told anyone that he did that. 

As he began Sloe Gin, he scanned the crowd again. They were a rowdy bunch, just what he had hoped for. They loved him and he loved them back but the special person he was looking to sing to hadn't emerged. He was really hoping to have someone to focus on for this song. This was a hard one, very emotional for him. He had almost decided that he would have to look inside to center himself when he spotted Alec. How had he missed this guy? Seated at a table near the front of the stage was a man who, if he wasn't a model should have been. His cheekbones were like mountain peaks and his nose was aqualine, fitting perfectly in the middle of his face. His hair was the color of honey, reaching his collar in the back and midway over his ears. He he had electric blue eyes that, in spite of the tears running down his cheek, held Tim in a visual caress.

“I'm so fucking lonely and I ain't even high...” 

Tim's voice was aching and raw, like the jagged edge of a broken bottle.

Tim wondered if he had ever meant those words more than he did right now. He had everything he had always wanted. He was in demand as an actor and had a burgeoning singing career but there was no one special in his life. No one who waited for him to come home at night. No one to ask how his day was or if he was feeling alright. There were times when he wondered if he were to have a terrible accident, would anyone notice he was missing? He never allowed himself to answer that question.

Tim was aware that he could have any person in the club tonight. From experience he knew that any one of them would gladly go back to his room and bang him all night long. So many wanna-be actors and singers would kill for what he had. He knew that and he was grateful but right now he felt that perhaps something was missing. He was so fucking lonely….so very fucking lonely.

During Sloe Gin, the emotions playing out on the blond's face were captivating. Tim wondered what it would be like to let his feelings out like that, for the world to see. He could never, would never do such a thing. Even the people who knew him didn't really know him. As all these thoughts swept through mind, he realized that he had found The One to sing to for this show. 

God, he hoped this guy hung around after the show. Maybe he would. Who was he with? There were two other men at the table. Was one of them a boyfriend? A lover? Were they all just friends? The delightful-looking blond didn't seem too interested in the men he was with. His sparkling eyes were glued to Tim. As the song ended, Tim acknowledged him with a seductive smile and he answered with a disarming smile of his own. Maybe, just maybe the provocative man would wait around at the end of the show. The stage door almost never went the way Tim thought it would but a man could hope, right?

Alec did wait after the show. He took his time leaving the club and getting to the stage door so that by the time he got there it seemed as though everyone in the club had simply moved to a different location. That was fine with him. He would wait until they had all left and he was the last one. He only wanted to say hello and thank Tim for the show but he didn't want all the fan-types around when he did. Ken and Patrick had tried to convince him to join them at a nearby bar but Alec declined. He knew he wouldn't get to have more than a minute with Tim but he felt compelled to wait. Ken and Pat had walked off shaking their heads and chuckling but he didn't care. He'd join them later.

Tim emerged through the club door and was immediately mobbed by passionate fans. He knew it would happen. It happened every night and he still didn't quite understand it. He was grateful for his fans but this stage door rush was unsettling. He had never anticipated being grabbed and pulled in several different directions or having his sinuous curls tugged until his hair came out by the roots in someone's hand. He was not a teen idol, for God's sake. There were lots of squealing girls and some squealing guys as well. At times like this, Tim believed that he must be a magnet for every sexually confused teenage boy in America. He may not have been wrong about that. He perused the sea of faces, hopeful that The One would be among them but the handsome blond was nowhere to be seen. He hid his disappointment, smiled, signed autographs, and took pictures with his devout disciples. Since The One hadn't stayed behind and he truly wasn't interested in anyone else, as soon as he had satisfied the crowd he turned to go back inside.

“Tim.”

The rich, strong voice stopped him in his tracks and he turned to see The One walking toward him.

The striking man stepped out of the shadows of some neighboring buildings. He flicked his cigarette to the ground and then crushed it out with his foot. He moved with a swagger toward Tim, who stood perfectly still and for possibly for the first time in his life, wasn't sure what to say. What was it about this guy?

'”I...you...you were...erm…. great tonight. Really. Great. I...Shit.” Alec felt like a bumbling fool. 

He looked up toward the night sky and then around him as if the right words might magically appear in the air. What was it about this English guy? Alec had partied with the likes of John Travolta, Diana Ross, and even Robert DeNiro. He had been witty and engaging when in conversation with them. They liked him and actively sought his company. Hell, even Miss Ross was charmed by him and she didn't like anyone. Here and now, when it mattered, he bungled his words and couldn't form a coherent thought. Tim must think him a halfwit.

“Thank you. I thought it was a good show, too. You really helped me through it, you know.” Tim gave him an encouraging smile.

Once again their eyes met and their gazes locked. There was something between them, they both felt it. Tim moved closer to him, until they were less than an arm's length apart.

“Did you know I was singing to you, for you?” Tim's voice was low, a seductive whisper.

Alec nodded. On some level he had felt that. “I think I did.” 

Feeling more comfortable, he smiled. “I need to warn you that I'm not always the brilliant conversationalist I was a moment ago. Sometimes I'm inarticulate.”

Tim's laugh was deep and joyful. “I have no idea what you're talking about. I find you clever and stimulating.”

Alec's responded in a smoky voice. “I aspire to be stimulating.”

He rested his right hand on Tim's left arm, squeezing his bicep gently. The leather of Tim's jacket was soft and worn, comfortable to the touch. He then ran his hand down Tim's arm and took his hand. Tim followed Alec's hand with his eyes, amused. He hadn't expected such forward behavior from this man. Many of his fans took liberties with him and he had to be firm with them but this guy caught him by surprise. As for Alec, he was shocked at his own behavior. Good Lord. He did not behave like this. He was acting like a horny, teenage club-goer. He might as well have been part of the swarm that overwhelmed Tim when he stepped outside. He jerked his hand away.

“Jesus. I don't do things like that. We haven't even met. God, I'm sorry. You must get shit like this all the time. Damn! I don't know what the fuck is wrong with me. I apologize. Look, seriously it was a great show. I thank you for that. You're incredibly talented and seeing you perform live was a rush. I have to get out of here before I completely mortify myself with this sudden onset of insanity. Thanks, man. I mean Tim. Thanks.” He turned to leave, thoroughly embarrassed and silently berating himself.

“Please don't go.” Tim spoke softly but he might as well have barked a command for that was the effect it had. Alec stopped and slowly turned toward Tim, nervously chewing the inside of his bottom lip.

“It seems we've gotten off to a rough start. Let's begin again.” Tim extended his right hand. “Hello, I'm just some guy called Tim. I sing and act for a living. You are….”

Alec was grateful for a second chance. He took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself before he spoke.

“Hello Tim. I'm just some guy named Alec. I'm a doctor so I try not to kill people for a living. It's a pleasure to meet you.” He shook Tim's hand firmly and felt strangely empowered. “Hey man, do you wanna split? Maybe grab a bite to eat?” 

Again, he was appalled by himself. This was not the way he spoke. He was an educated man, a medical doctor, not some hippie looking to get his groove on.

Tim grinned. “Sure, I'm finished for the night. With work, I mean. Finished with work.” He wasn't sure why he felt the need to clarify but it made him feel better.

Alec led the way to a quiet jazz club not far from where they were. “Hope you don't mind. I'm really into jazz.”

“Oh yeah, I am as well. One of my favorite genres.” Tim's eyes adjusted as they walked through the door and down a fight of stairs to the building's basement. This wasn't the kind of place he would have expected Alec to suggest. The older man behind the bar greeted Alec by name as they entered.

After they seated themselves, Tim looked around the room. It was an old club, must have been there forever. There was a jazz trio on an ancient stage playing their hearts out as if they were at Carnegie Hall. The walls were dark and stained by years of tobacco smoke. The tables were small and dimly lit by mostly melted candles and a few sconces placed erratically on the walls. The joint smelled of stale cigarettes and old booze. Tim relaxed, pleased with the choice of the dive jazz club. He wondered to himself if this was their first date and then banished the thought from his mind. First date? He wasn't 16 years old. He was a grown man and besides, he wasn't even sure if anyone had first dates any more. 

A young, flamboyant gay man with one diamond earring came to take their order. They both ordered beer and a hamburger. The waiter scrutinized Tim, trying to figure out if he knew him. He must have decided he didn't because he took their order and left.

Tim lit a cigarette and complimented Alec on his choice of club. They chatted a bit, only small talk. They were getting to know each other and Tim was pleased that he had asked him to stay. He wasn't sure what had made him call out to Alec but an irresistible force had propelled him. So far, it seemed that he had done the right thing. They both smiled at the young man as he returned with their drinks and food.

The kid had to ask. “Do I know you? Have we met before? At a club maybe? I think I saw you at Paradise Garage. You've been there, right?”

Tim shook his head and smiled warmly. “I've been there but I don't think we've met. I'm sure I would remember you if we had.” It was the smile that satisfied the young man.

“So, you're English. I like British guys. I'm Brian by the way. You know, in case we run into each other some place, like Paradise on a Thursday night.” He cast a sideways glance at Alec whose only reaction was to smile wryly at the British guy across the table. Tim said nothing but offered a small smile and Brian walked away believing Tim would certainly look for him at Paradise Garage on a Thursday night.

Alec nodded and chuckled. “I like British guys, too, by the way.”

“It's the accent. The Beatles made it cool and now Americans love us. Perhaps if Brian had asked my sign I'd have taken him seriously.” Tim gave Alec a saucy wink as he dragged on his cigarette.

Alec laughed heartily then gulped his beer. “As we were saying before Brian came along….I like the old jazz, though, not what they're making today. You know, Ella Fitzgerald and Sarah Vaughan.”

Tim leaned forward and rested his forearms against the edge of the small table. “And Billie. What do you think of her?”

Alec shook his head. “I almost can't listen to her any more because I feel so exposed by her despair. She puts it all out there.”

He paused and lit a cigarette of his own. “I'll tell you, there was about a year when I was 18 that I didn't listen to anyone else. It was Billie all the time. I was a lost soul, no idea where I was going in life and everything seemed unattainable. My folks were worried about me, afraid I might open a vein or something. I thought about it more than once but I never told them.” He paused and blew cigarette smoke out of his nose. “I don't think I've ever told anyone.”

He wasn't sure why he was revealing this to Tim except that when he looked into Tim's moss-colored eyes he sensed something more than a bubble-headed, self-centered entertainer. Perhaps Tim was a kindred spirit. Someone who had been broken by life but had come safely out the other side. “Now, all I have to do is hear the opening notes of Gloomy Sunday and I'm paralyzed.”

Tim eyes widened and he nodded in understanding. Alec's story was comparable to his. He was going to have to be careful with this exceptional man. If he weren't vigilant about keeping his wall up, he could lose his defenses and, quite possibly, his heart. He chose his words carefully. No matter how much he wanted to, he would not reveal too much. He would not give himself away.

“I felt the same around 18. I had finished my A-levels but I couldn't bring myself to go to university. I knew I had to be an actor but there was grievous opposition from the people I loved, you know.” He took a bite of his burger and chewed thoughtfully.

“I couldn't bear the thought of disappointing my mum. She went through so much when my father died. That's a completely different story, though.” He watched Alec's face carefully as he spoke. Other than his sister, he never talked to anyone about his life, so why a complete stranger? He had no answer to that, but Alec nodded encouragement so Tim continued.

“I never doubted I would be a successful actor but there was a battle in my heart. I knew I couldn't be a doctor or a banker as my mum wanted. That's not me, never has been. I was seriously depressed, looking for a razor blade, and Billie Holiday was singing about me.” Tim could feel that he was saying much more than he wanted to but he felt powerless to stop himself. 

Alec was a great listener. “The struggle ended when I spent some time working on a ship. I hated it but it cleared my head so when I returned home, I was ready for university. Had a bit of a time with my mum over becoming an actor. She hated it and didn't want to hear about it at first but she came around. She was worried I'd have no job, no money, and have to go on the dole. I became an actor anyway.” He grinned. “I've been told I'm quite stubborn.”

For someone determined to keep his own counsel, Tim realized he had told Alec more about himself than he had told many people who considered themselves to be his friends. Why did he trust this guy? How could it be that he felt such a strong connection with someone he had met just a few hours ago? This had happened only once before….

*****


	2. Chapter 2

Tim had felt true, romantic love only once before and that seemed a lifetime ago. It had ended so badly that he had sworn to himself that he would never again be vulnerable to another person. Although his parents had been deeply In love and his sister was over the moon with her husband, Tim had decided that a relationship was not what his cards held. Once, he had believed it was and the death of that dream nearly destroyed him.

Her name was Zara Woodhouse. Zara's copper hair fell like a waterfall to her waist and her huge milk chocolate eyes were flecked with amber. Her fair skin was soft and creamy with no blemishes of any kind. She always smelled sweet, as if she had just finished baking cookies. They had both auditioned for the stage production of Hair in London. Tim was newly out of university and cocky as hell. He knew he had talent and he had no doubt that his acting career would meet with success though he had no desire to be a star. Being a working actor was his goal. He expected it would take several years but he never doubted that his dream would come true. Zara never doubted it either.

Zara did not get a role in Hair. Her disappointment in not being cast in the hit musical was tolerable only because she had met Tim. The moment she laid eyes on his untamed, corkscrew curls and his dancing green eyes she was smitten. As they grew closer, they moved in together and she happily abandoned any thoughts of her own acting career. Zara took a job waiting tables to support them because although Tim worked steadily, the roles were small and didn't pay well. Tim's ambition became her ambition as well. On stage, he amazed her. His talent and his voice delighted her. His ability to be naked on stage dazzled her. The fact that he physically shed his clothes on stage, to Zara, was symbolic of the way he shed himself and truly became the character. It moved her to tears to think on it.

Off stage, his shyness charmed her. It wasn't until they had slept together four times (she remembered exactly) that Tim ceased to play a character in front of her and showed her who he was - cautious, tender, and having a wicked sense of humour. The brazen impersonation of the stage gave way to the playfulness and honesty that was Tim. They lay in each others arms every night and shared their deepest secrets, hopes, and fears. They planned their future, a home and children. In their dreams he was a busy actor on the West End, esteemed by his peers and audiences alike, and she was the proud wife, the keeper of the home fire. Zara wanted only to make a home and raise their children and no one was more surprised by that than she.

Tim was not an impetuous man. He thought things through before committing which was endlessly frustrating to Zara. Both of them could see their future. Sometimes they felt it was so close they could touch it but there were still days when Zara felt as if she were dragging Tim, kicking and screaming, into her vision. He loved her. She was certain of that. He told her so and, more importantly, he showed her. He would leave poems for her in unexpected places. He would pop home at times when he was scheduled to be some other place, and make passionate love to her. They didn't have much money but neither of them gave any weight to that as they both knew it was only a matter of time until Tim's career took off and they had the world at their feet. Austerity was a temporary condition. They felt it to their core.

Neither of them had any idea that the role of a rock and roll singing, corset-wearing, high-heeled mad scientist would change the course of their lives.

When The Rocky Horror Show premiered at the Theatre Upstairs at the Royal Court, Tim knew it would be a hit. When he, as Dr. Frank N Furter, made his entrance in the play he felt the electricity course through the crowd. After the curtain call on opening night, it was obvious that the show would have a successful run. He had no idea just how successful it would be…..

By the time the show had moved to the King's Road Theater, Tim was a hot property. After the show premiered, cast members were invited everywhere – parties, premieres, restaurants, and clubs. They were the flavor of the moment. Tim ate it up. He was surprised that success had come to him so quickly and even more surprised that Rocky Horror was the show that had vaulted him into the ranks of the West End elite, the hip actors of the period. He was on his way and Zara was at his side for every step of it.

She didn't always accompany him to events and when she did, not many people noticed. Tim had explained his philosophy to her and she accepted it. He believed that the public should know nothing about his private life. If they did, then it was no longer his private life but a part of his professional facade. The other side of the coin was that if they knew details of his private life, it would be more difficult for them to see him as a character. He wanted them to see the character of Frank N Furter not to see Tim Curry as Frank N Furter. Zara understood this and kept her distance publicly. If they went some place together, she remained a step behind or to the side. Often she watched him proudly from the other side of the room. She almost preferred not to go to those events at all. It was uncomfortable to hear him propositioned by both men and women as she often did and they sometimes argued about those incidents when they got home. However, she understood that she was his private treasure rather than his public adornment. There was no doubt in her mind that this was the way it should be. Tim was her man. He would eventually be her husband and the father of her children. Whether anyone else ever knew it didn't concern her, that was between her and Tim, 

The happy couple had settled into a comfortable routine. The Rocky Horror Show, which had paid very little initially, was now paying some of the household bills. Tim's notoriety was such that they both knew that major roles in major productions were imminent. Their destiny was within reach. That was Tim's mindset when he was offered the opportunity to open The Rocky Horror Show in Los Angeles, California.

It was now the wee hours of the morning and Zara had been tossing and turning in bed, waiting for Tim to arrive home after the show. He was hours late and she was becoming more angry by the minute. It had been a long day at the cafe where she worked and perhaps it was the biting winter weather but the customers had been unusually crabby. It seemed that every table had a complaint – their order was wrong or their food was cold, the water for tea wasn't hot enough. She hadn't had a chance to sit down all day. Her feet hurt and her head ached. She was tired to the bone. Their bed-sit was cold, something was wrong with the heat, and she couldn't get warm. Although she had tried to soak in their small bathtub, she was still cold and exhausted. She didn't know if she was relieved or furious when she heard Tim's key unlock the door but she opted for furious. She shot out of the bed.

“Where the bloody hell have you been?” Her voice was shrill and there was fire in her eyes. She flew at him as he walked in the door.

Tim caught her as she flung herself at him. He had a few drinks under his belt but he wasn't drunk, only tipsy. “We went out for drinks to celebrate. What's wrong with you?”

She jerked away from him and went to the kitchen area, slamming cupboard doors and banging pots and pans before finally putting on a kettle for tea. She was mad as hell and she lashed out again. 

“What's wrong with ME? What the fuck do you think is wrong with ME? You were supposed to be home three hours ago. Pick up a fucking phone and call when you're gonna be late! That's just courtesy! I thought you were dead!”

Tim stamped the snow off his shoes and shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it over the back of a chair. “As you can see, I'm not dead. I'm quite well. In fact, I'm better than well. I'm fantastic!” He watched her for a moment to gauge what he could safely say to her. He'd never seen her like this before.

“Don't be angry, baby. I have big news.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall watching her. He grinned engagingly. “I mean super big news!” 

He moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, nuzzling her neck.

“Don't you want to hear my news?' His voice was low and sexy as he whispered in her ear. At any other time he would have elicited a very affectionate response.

Zara was further infuriated by the smell of liquor on his breath. He had gone out drinking with his mates and then stumbled home late, expecting her to be perfectly agreeable. “I don't give a shit about your news. I have news as well.”

She spit the words at him and pulled out of his embrace. She shoved him away and he stumbled backward. Tim caught himself and then stood motionless, trying to sort out what was happening. He regretted the drinks he'd had earlier because he really wished his mind was clear right now. 

He decided to try again. 

“Come on, baby. Don't be like this. I didn't mean to worry you. We were celebrating and the time got away. Don't you want to know why we were having a celebration?” He stuck out his lower lip in a mock pout and peered at her with puppy dog eyes.

Zara pointedly ignored him and fetched a tea cup. She poured the boiling water in the cup, then added her tea bag. She took her steaming beverage to the small table in the kitchen area. Truthfully, she was curious.

“Alright, ya drunken git tell me your news.” She brought the cup to her lips but Tim spied the smile she was trying to hide. He was relieved the fight was over and knew that she would be as thrilled as he was. He sat down across from her.

With a self-satisfied smile, he crowed. “Rocky's going to Los Angeles! We're going to America!!!”

Zara froze then carefully placed the cup in the saucer. She looked at Tim as if he had just told her they were moving to Mars. She drew a deep breath then exhaled slowly. She said nothing for a moment and then her voice was so soft as to be nearly inaudible. “What are you talking about? Who's going to America?”

The eerie calm left Tim bewildered. He had thought she'd be thrilled and that he'd have to stop her from packing tonight. It was difficult to read her and that put him on edge. The fierceness of her anger when he walked through the door followed by the disconcerting calmness left him feeling unbalanced.

“Zara,” he thought it best to tread softly, regarding her closely. “We're going to America, you and me. A man called Lou Adler wants to put Rocky on stage in Los Angeles. He wants me to go, to do Frank there.”

She stared into her tea cup trying to select the words least likely to resume the fight but she was too tired to stop herself. Her words were designed to sting and they hit their mark. “Tim, don't be daft! You haven't given this any thought at all! Some arsehole you don't even know asks you to go to Los Angeles and you jump at it? You leave me alone, freezing my arse off, while you're out getting pissed and then you walk in here and tell me this shit? You want me to pack up everything and go to America? This is not like you. You analyze things to death. My God. Are you pissed out your head?”

Now it was Tim's turn to be angry. “No, I'm not. I'm sober as a judge. You should be happy about this instead you're acting like the fucking world is ending! Dammit, Zara! This is what we've worked for! What we've always said we wanted!”

She shot out of her chair like a bullet causing the small wooden chair to skid across the floor. In a flash, she was in Tim's face. 

“You think moving to Los Angeles is what we worked for? When did I ever say I wanted to go to America? When did you ever say you wanted to go there? Never! That's when! You never said a fucking word about moving halfway across the world! You bring this to me, pissed out your head in the middle of the night, and tell me I should be happy! You want to know what I think? I think that Los Angeles is only the start! Then we're off to New York, then back to California, then maybe to fucking China! It'll never end! You'll be all over the world and you'll never settle down! Never! Our family is here! Our friends are here! Our lives are here! You can't drag a wife and children all over the fucking world! This was never what I agreed to! You're a selfish piece of shit!”

Tim grabbed the finger she was wagging in his face and twisted it away from him. He stood to face her and raised his voice.

“I must be a complete tosser because I don't understand you at all! You're pissed off about the very thing we've wanted for years! Do this, Tim! Go there, Tim! Put on the bloody corset, Tim! You're gonna be a star, Tim! Now, it's who said anything about America, Tim? You're selfish, Tim! You want me to have a big career but you're not willing to make any sacrifice to help me build it! You're a selfish bitch!”

Without thinking, she slapped him hard across the face. The blow landed squarely on his left cheek and the cracking sound it made reverberated in the silence that followed. Tim grabbed his cheek, stunned. Zara gasped loudly and reached out to soothe the spot where her slap had landed. He roughly pushed her hand away. Without saying another word, he grabbed his jacket and slammed the door as he left. Zara threw herself on the bed and cried herself to sleep.

Later that morning, Tim let himself into their flat. Zara sat on the sofa staring at the wall, her hands tucked in her armpits for warmth. The heat still wasn't fixed. She didn't look up when he came in. He couldn't tell if she was remorseful or still angry so he stood with his back against the closed door.

“God, it's cold in here.” He spoke quietly and watched for her reaction.

“I'm sure it's much warmer in Los Angeles.” She continued to stare at the wall across from her.

He tracked her gaze and saw that his belongings were packed and stuffed in the corner of the room. His heart pounded and he felt as though the room was closing in on him. He struggled to breathe and wondered if he would just drop dead where he stood.

“Zara,” he sat down next to her on the sofa. “What are you doing? This is a huge opportunity. Don't take this away from me. Please. Don't do this to me.”

When she turned to face him, he didn't recognize her. Her features were distorted by emotion. Her words burned. “Don't do this to YOU?”

She rubbed her cheeks with her palms to try and calm herself and then rested her head in her hands. She didn't want to do this. After all they had gone through together and the dreams they shared, she didn't want it to end this way but she had no choice. This was best for Tim, for both of them. The last sacrifice she could make for him was to let him go. She felt as though her heart was being ripped from her chest.

“Tim, London is my home, our home. It never occurred to me that you would want to go to America. I suppose it should have. I mean Los Angeles, right? Movie star and all that shite. Hollywood. I should have realized you'd want to be there, that you wouldn't stay in London forever. Until last night I'd never thought about it but I understand now. I do.” Her bottom lip trembled as she spoke.

She still hadn't looked at him. Tim wanted to curl into a ball and die. This was not the way they had planned their lives. 

“I never thought you wouldn't want to go. I thought you'd be thrilled. I don't know what to say.” He could feel the tears welling in his eyes and he furiously blinked them away. 

His cheeks burned as a single tear escaped and ran down his cheek. He wiped it away with the back of his hand. “We're over? Just like that? You're throwing away six years right as our dreams are coming true? Zara, I swear I don't understand. What have I done wrong?” 

He hadn't felt this abandoned and alone since his father died. A vast abyss opened in front of him and he tumbled arse over elbow into it. “I came here to make things right with you, not to move out.”

She nodded. “I know. I just can't go to America. I'm sorry, Tim. I'm sorry with all my heart but I can't. I know you have to go to Los Angeles or where ever your career takes you. You have to do this and you should. This is such a grand opportunity and I know that. You can't say no to this but I have to. I can't go with you.”

He sat next to her for a few moments more but realized that Zara was finished talking about it. Her decision was made and there was no going back. He stood up and gathered his few possessions together. He stopped at the door before leaving and turned to look at her. “Zara, please. I don't want this. Please….” his voice broke.

She never even looked his way. “I know, Tim.”

He stood there for a few more heartbeats but Zara didn't say another word. He laid his key on the small table near the door and left the bed-sit for the final time.

As she heard his footfalls in the hall growing fainter until they disappeared, she realized she had never had the chance to share her news. She hugged her belly tightly. The tears rolled down her face and dripped onto her chest. She let them fall.


	3. Chapter 3

It was the last night of Tim's three night stand at the Bottom Line and Alec sat in the same seat he had occupied the previous two nights, right near the stage. If Tim's intention was to work an already animated crowd into a frenzy, he succeeded. The crowd was crazy for him and rightfully so. They were begging to be conquered and Tim was the man for the job.

Alec was proud of Tim, proud that he knew him and that, for three nights, Tim was his man. He knew that would never be public knowledge and he was comfortable with that. He understood Tim's credo – that if the general public knew anything about his private life, it would be harder to for them to see him as whatever character he was portraying. Right now, that character was Rock God and the crowd was gleefully letting him know that he had succeeded. 

Alec relished the madness surrounding him. The more the audience responded, the more Tim teased them and broke their hearts. Some were screaming to him on the stage, begging him to notice them. Tim was reveling in the spotlight and Alec was reveling in Tim. He enjoyed hearing the excited chatter around him. The enthralled club-goers were talking to their friends, eagerly describing what they would do to the Rock God if they had the chance. Alec felt smug knowing that their fantasies would be his reality after the show.

As Tim bounded onto the stage for the last show in New York, he was a man conflicted. He was thrilled with a successful run but very sorry to be leaving. As much as he wanted to get back on the road and meet his fans in other cities, he knew he would miss New York. He would miss everything about it – the smells, the sounds, the fans, and of course Alec. Tim refused to give himself permission to think about leaving Alec. Not only was this his last night at the Bottom Line, it was his last night with hunky blonde doctor. Tim told himself it didn't matter. There would be more fans in new cities and he would always find someone to entertain him. His heart wouldn't accept that. Alec was more than a fan. Much more.

From the stage, Tim did his nightly scan of the audience to find The One. He couldn't allow Alec to be The One again. He couldn't sing to him, couldn't risk that anyone might suspect what they shared or what he meant to Tim. Fuck! Tim wondered what did Alec mean to him? He shook his head slightly to clear it. He couldn't do this right now. He had to give a concert. Wait. There! That girl with the straight brown hair and the granny glasses. There she was. The One for this show. Tim smiled at her and she smiled back. Yep. He would sing to her tonight.

Alec knew the set list and he was aware that Tim's next song would be a cover of the Beatles', “I Will.” Alec had always loved this song and he adored Tim's version. He was saddened to realize this was the last time he would hear Tim sing it live but there was nothing he could do about that. He would always think of “I Will” as their song. Of course, Tim would never know that.

“And when at first I saw you, I did not know your name but it never really mattered...”

During the song, Tim made every effort to divert his gaze but his eyes consistently betrayed him, always finding their way back to his gorgeous blonde lover. Tim finally gave up and just allowed his eyes to feast on the handsome man. He couldn't look away. Whether Tim wanted it or not, Alec was The One for this song. His mind's eye wandered to their times together, the secrets they had shared and the great sex they'd had. Then it hit him like a ton of bricks. He loved this man. He had done the one thing he had sworn to never do again. Shit. He was in love.

Feeling the song, Alec savored the heat of Tim's gaze. He knew without a doubt that Tim was singing to him and the song was perfect for them. Did Tim think of this as their song as well?

“...love you whenever we're together, love you when we're apart...”

Wait a minute. Tim really was singing those words to him, looking him right in the eye, his lascivious ogle never wavering. Alec felt transported, as though he and Tim were the only ones in the club. The noise of the crowd faded away. Neither he nor Tim seemed aware that anyone else was around. He wondered if the crowd was aware of the musical seduction taking place, if the band noticed that Tim fixated only on him. He didn't care. 

Alec licked his bottom lip and then raked his teeth across it slowly. On stage, Tim's eyes widened and he offered a sly smile. During their very public foreplay, Alec's mind's eye recalled their times together and the amazing sex they had shared, the secrets they had told each other. Then it hit him like a ton of bricks. He loved this man. He had done the one thing he shouldn't do. Shit! He had fallen in love with someone who would never love him back. This was supposed to be a three day fling, not a love affair. 

The realization frightened him. Tim had told him about Zara and had made it clear that he was not looking for love. He would never look for love again. He wanted someone to make him laugh and share his bed while he was in town. Tim had never said or done anything to make Alec think this was anything more than a three night party. Certainly their conversations had gone beyond the surface, deeper than just pillow talk. They had shared confidences, revealed their fears, and their dreams but Alec knew that they were not a couple. His head told him that Tim would leave New York, go to another city, and find someone else to play with. His heart told him that they meant more to each other than that and that Tim felt it as well. Dammit! Why didn't his heart stay out of this? He hadn't meant to fall in love. He had never expected more than a chance to say hello to a performer he admired and now he had fallen in love. He felt like a speeding train heading for a brick wall.


	4. Chapter 4

Alec waited for Tim after the show as he always did, in the shadows until the crowd had gone. He approached Tim timidly rather than in his usual enthusiastic way. They spent a moment just looking at each other, each uncomfortable with their private realization and uncertain how or even whether to present it to the other. It was a strange feeling as neither of them had held anything back in their private moments but this seemed overwhelming to both of them.

“Fantastic show! I guess you know that but you were brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!” Alec's nerves caused him to speaker faster and louder than he normally would. “Would you like to go for a drink? Maybe get something to eat. I know you didn't eat before the show.”

“Thanks, baby. It felt good, the show I mean. The show felt good.” Dammit. Tim felt he had lost control of his mind and he was stumbling over his words. “I'm not terribly hungry but I'd like a drink or two, possibly several.” 

He breathed deeply and looked away from Alec. His head was swimming. God, he wished he had another day to figure this out. If he were going to tell Alec how he felt, it had to be tonight because he was leaving town tomorrow morning. No time to discuss it, no time to figure things out – all he could do was say the words and see how Alec responded. He was afraid that Alec might walk away or laugh at him. It could be a very hurtful situation. He was angry at himself for falling in love with someone who didn't love him back. He was going to leave New York brokenhearted, he just knew it. He supposed that if worse came to worse, there was always Billie Holiday.

Alec nodded at Tim's suggestion of a few drinks. He wouldn't mind that one bit. He had been hungry earlier but the sudden awareness of his feelings had stolen any appetite he had. He wasn't sure what he was going to do. If he were going to tell Tim that he loved him, he had to do it tonight. How would Tim react? Alec expected that most likely Tim would be relieved to be leaving town tomorrow so that he didn't have to watch Alec wrestle with his feelings. Why did things have to be so complicated? Maybe he shouldn't tell Tim at all, just let him leave town thinking they had a good time and nothing else. No complications, the way Tim liked it. The way Alec liked it. Hell, the way everyone liked it. If he never said a word, then no one would pity him while he floundered with a broken heart. Of course, if worse came to worse, there was always Billie Holiday.

They went to a bar in Tim's hotel. It wasn't the same bar the band had gone to; that was a loud party scene, a place to pick up girls. This bar was quiet and relatively dark with wood paneling, and high-backed, dark red leather booths, a more sophisticated place. The other patrons were older, dressed in dark suits that attested to a night at the theatre and most likely the beautiful young women who accompanied them were not their wives. Tim and Alec stood out like sore thumbs. They were young, clad in jeans, and looked very rock and roll. Nonetheless, they seated themselves in a quiet booth and both of them ordered scotch. The waiter smiled knowingly at them but said not a word.

Tim lifted his glass and examined the drink in the dim light. He took the first sip and felt the burn all the way down his throat that assured him it was a very good scotch. Paying for top shelf liquor in New York was pricey but he wanted to make it a nice night for Alec.

Alec stared into his glass, not yet tasting it. Each of them believed that the heaviness born by the other was a result of having to say goodbye in the morning. Neither guessed that the others burden was the same as their own.

Tim cleared his throat and spoke softly. “It's our last night together. It seems that saying goodbye is going to be harder than I expected.”

He thought it best to approach the topic slowly with Alec. He had decided that it wasn't right to be in love with someone and not tell them. Alec deserved to know how Tim felt about him. He had no idea what kind of heartbreak lay ahead for him but it seemed better to face up to it than to run away. Besides, who knew? Perhaps Alec felt the same way. Tim chuckled to himself at that thought, so hopeful yet hopeless at the same time.

Alec looked up with an eager smile. “Did you think of something funny? Please share.”

Tim was embarrassed. He hadn't realized he had laughed out loud. “Erm...no, not really. Just a fleeting thought.” 

He kicked himself for not telling Alec the truth right then, but would it be right to tell him here, in this bar surrounded by cheating husbands and their trophy girlfriends? Should he wait until they were upstairs in his room? Would Alec feel trapped if they were in his room? Hell, would Alec even want to go to his room if he knew? Would he feel better if he could leave Tim sitting at the table and make a quick escape? God. Why was this so hard? 

Alec watched the glass of amber booze as he turned it in his hand. He wished Tim had shared whatever funny thought he had because Alec really needed to laugh right now. God, it was hard to be in love especially when the one you love doesn't want to be loved. Or perhaps Tim wouldn't mind Alec being in love with him as long as he didn't expect Tim to reciprocate. Alec was having trouble breathing at this point. Was the room getting smaller? He was pretty sure it was.

Even in the bar's dim light, Tim could see the anxiety flickering across Alec's face. Tim would give anything to calm him but he knew that if he opened his mouth right now he would blurt out the very thing he didn't wasn't ready to say. Nevertheless, he decided that if nothing is ventured, nothing is gained. 

“Are you alright, babe? You seem...I don't know...” Tim's voice trailed off.

“Yeah, I'm fine. I really am. I'm fine.” Alec took a huge gulp of scotch which resulted in a furious episode of coughing and sputtering. By the time he finished, his eyes were red and tears were pouring freely down his face. He wasn't sure if the tears were due to the coughing or if he were truly weeping.

Tim made an unsuccessful attempt to stifle a laugh. When he was very nervous, laughter often spilled unbidden. “You're supposed to sip it, baby.” 

Tim summoned the waiter for a glass of water.

With a final cough, Alec snapped at him. “I'm so happy that you were entertained by my choking. Perhaps I'll have a heart attack and you can throw a party. Don't trouble yourself, Mr. Curry. I'm sure I'll be fine in an hour or so.” Alec realized his anger stemmed from trying so hard to stifle what he needed to say but he didn't feel ready to reveal himself. Helpless seemed to sum him up at the moment.

Tim closed his eyes for a moment and then eyed Alec intently. The words had cut deep. Tim recalled another night, a few years back, when a different lover had displayed the same type of unexplained anger. 

He drew a ragged breath before speaking. His voice was calm and low. “Mr. Curry? Would you prefer us to act as though we've never met, Doctor Blanchard? Shall we pretend that we're strangers on our last night?” 

Tim felt as if the room were tilting or perhaps the room was fine and it was the universe that was spinning out of control. Why the sudden formality? He knew he shouldn't have laughed when Alec was choking but it was nervous laughter, not because he found it funny. Being in love and feeling too distressed to acknowledge it was treacherous territory. It was making Tim act in ways he wouldn't normally. This was painful and for some reason Alec was not himself either tonight. Tim was grateful he hadn't bared his soul. He was certain now that Alec would not want a declaration of love from him.

“No, Tim, I don't want us to be...to pretend to be strangers. I'm sorry I said that, called you Mr. Curry.” Alec searched for the right words but they didn't want to come. He stared into his glass of scotch. Dammit, Alec, just say it. Say. It. Tell him and then if he wants to run like his ass is on fire, he can.

“Tim, I'm trying every way I know to tell you. I'd like to have some clever way but I don't. Truthfully, I'd rather not say it all because I know it's literally the last thing you want to hear but I'm going to say it anyway. What you do with it is up to you.” Alec took a deep breath. He had jumbled all those words together quickly and he wasn't certain if Tim had understood anything he had said.

“Babe, whatever you're thinking you can tell me. This doesn't have to be hard, simply say what's on your mind.” Tim was afraid to hear what his sexy flame would say but he had to. His voice was so soft and compassionate that it made Alec want to tell him everything.

“Okay, here it is.” Alec took a deep breath as Tim braced himself. “I love you, Tim. I'm in love with you. Everything you said you don't want, well that's what I feel. I love you.”

He realized he had been holding his breath and he released it slowly. He was anticipating the worst – that Tim would get up and storm out or laugh at him. Alec's fears were not allayed by the grin that crossed the Englishman's face and he prepared himself for scorn.

Embarrassed and defensive, he lashed out. “It's not a fucking joke, Tim. There's no fucking punchline. I told you that I love you and you find that amusing? If you want to write me off as some lovestruck fan, go ahead. I shouldn't have said anything. You're an asshole.”

Tim held up his hands in defense. “No, no. I'm not laughing at you. You've made me incredibly happy.”

Tim was happy? Alec couldn't figure out what the Englishman had to be happy about. Was he happy that Alec would be absolutely miserable when he left? Was that what Tim did – leave broken hearts in every city he went to? Did he get off on people pining for him? That wasn't the man Alec knew but did he really know him? They'd had a limited time together. Perhaps Tim wasn't the person Alec thought him to be.

Tim moved to sit next to Alec. He wanted to whisper his words so that only Alec heard them. “I promise I'm not laughing at you. Alec, I'm in love with you, too. I've been sitting here trying to figure out how to tell you. I'm not good at simplicity which is really all this called for, just to say 'I love you' as you did.” 

Alec's mouth fell open. Never in a million years had he thought this would happen. Perhaps he had misheard. “What did you say?”

Tim grinned, relieved and a little giddy. “I said I love you too.” He bumped Alec's shoulder with his own.

“Tim, if you're fucking with me I swear to God...” Every muscle in Alec's body was taut. Tim had sworn that he would never fall in love again and if he was having him on, he couldn't stand it. There was a sparkle in Tim's moon eyes that let Alec know his man meant what he said.

“I'm not fucking with you now, although later tonight I hope to.” Tim's lewd grin appeared. “I love you. I'm scared shitless about it but I do.”

Alec relaxed. “You do. You really love me.” 

He was joyous and laughed with gusto at how terrified he had been to say anything. Alec's laugh caused several of the older patrons to scowl in his direction. He scowled at them in return. This moment was pure magic so screw them.

“Yeah, I really do.” Tim downed what was left of his scotch and signaled the waiter to bring another. The hard part was over. Or was it?

“What are we going to do about it? I'm leaving tomorrow and you can't come with me. Can you?” Tim raised his eyebrows hopefully. Although he knew the answer, he had to ask.

“No, honey, I can't. I have a medical practice so I can't just up and leave. I don't think I could ever do what you do, living on a bus and going from city to city.” Alec felt sadder than he'd ever been. He hadn't anticipated that Tim would love him, too, so he had given no thought to what would happen next. Apparently, Tim hadn't either.

Tim felt deflated. “I don't know what's going to happen when this tour is over. I have to record another album and we'll do some of it here but some of it in Massachusetts. It feels like an eternity until I'm back in New York.” 

Alec placed his hand on Tim's and squeezed it. “We'll work it out, honey. When you're on the road, you'll call me. I'll fly out to see you on weekends. When you get back to the City, we'll be together. We can do this, Tim. We've both been through worse things – at least we're working at this together.” He managed to sound more upbeat than he felt. His euphoria over learning that Tim was in love with him was tempered by the realization that they would spend more time apart than together.

Tim nodded. “Alec, I can't promise you anything. I don't know where my career will take me and that's already cost me a relationship that I thought would last for the rest of my life. I may be in Los Angeles, I may be in London, I may go to fucking China. I hope I'll be here in New York, at least for a bit but I don't know. I can't tell you where I'm going to be. I have no stability to offer you.”

Alec thought for a moment and sipped his scotch very slowly, not wanting to repeat his earlier coughing experience. 

“Tim, I don't need you to provide stability for me. God knows I'm stable.” He chuckled. 

After a moment he continued, “Maybe I could provide stability for you. Would you be willing to think of my home as your home, too? It's not grand but it's comfortable. You'll always have a place to come home to.” Alec relaxed a bit as he saw Tim's eyes light up.

Tim felt more hopeful than he'd been in a long time. He was ebullient. “I'd like that. You know, the only place I have to think of as home is my mum's. It's sad to know that I'm 32 years old and my only home is my mum's. I'm not in one spot long enough to have my own place. I'd love to have a place that's ours.” He paused. “I haven't seen it, you know.” 

He was crazy about this man and for Alec to offer him something he didn't have and couldn't provide, meant more to him than he could say.

“Well, you should definitely see the place. I mean when you're spending a frozen weekend in Minneapolis, you should be able to visualize your warm, comfortable home with your loving, devoted partner.” Alec licked his bottom lip and smiled suggestively. He couldn't remember when he had loved someone this much. 

Alec was so excited that he had goosebumps. “Maybe we should spend tonight there, kind of christen the place as ours.” If someone had told him he would be having this discussion with Tim, he would not have believed it. He could have never predicted that their night would end this way. 

Tim paid the check and they left together, sharing a quiet taxi ride, each lost in their own thoughts, to the apartment in Chelsea. Alec unlocked the door to the apartment that was now their shared home. 

He grinned at the Englishman. “I feel like I should carry you over the threshold.”

With mock indignation, Tim drew himself up. “Why am I the bride? Perhaps I should carry you.”

“Oh, don't bite your arm off.” Alec smiled at his man. He reached over and took Tim's hand, tucking it into the curve of his own arm and led him across the threshold. “Was that acceptable, my love?”

Tim felt his body hum with pleasure and when Alec closed the door, Tim roughly pushed him against it and kissed him passionately. He thought to himself, this is going to work out fine. 

As their kiss deepened, Alec slid his hands down Tim's back and squeezed his butt. He thought to himself, this is going to work out fine. 

Yep. It will work out just fine.


	5. Chapter 5

And it did work out just fine for a couple of years.

They were both ecstatic when Tim signed on to do the play, Amadeus on Broadway. It was a great role for Tim but part of the attraction was a year in New York. They would finally have some time together. He had agreed to a year with the play partially so that he could spend an entire year with Alec, in the same city, in the same home, in the same bed.

Although Tim was busier than ever, performing Amadeus, recording his third album, and filming Annie simultaneously, he made sure he always had time to spend with Alec. More than once he thought that his incredible partner was the only reason he stayed sane.

Alec was over the moon to have Tim with him, no matter how few waking hours they shared. As a medical doctor with a private practice, his work took place during the daylight hours so he spent many nights watching from the wings as Tim brought Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart to life. It was an exhausting role, physically and mentally, so there were many nights that Tim went directly home after the show. He found that going home to the warm bed of his captivating lover was much more agreeable than partying in a noisy club and evading the romantic advances of would-be lotharios. The nights that Alec came to the theatre were even better. He liked knowing that the man who loved him was watching him perform and Tim was certain that his performance was always better on those nights.


	6. Chapter 6

This night started off as every other night that Alec watched from the wings. The unbelievable cold weather was the only thing set it apart. People with good sense were in their cozy homes with their loved ones. The more intrepid New Yorkers, however, still went to the theatre. So did a few plucky tourists.

Alec waited across the street while Tim did the obligatory meet and greet at the stage door after the show. Ordinarily, Tim enjoyed this part of his work but this night was miserable. The bitter cold penetrated even the warmest winter wear and some fans, who had been waiting a while, grumbled loudly that Tim had taken his time coming outside, making them wait. He bantered with them and tried to appease them by signing autographs and posing for pictures. There were the requisite number of Rocky Horror fans who demanded his attention by shouting some of Frank N Furter's lines when he emerged. His luxurious curls bounced as he shook his head in incredulity. He couldn't believe that anyone in their right mind would come out in this weather only to stand on the sidewalk and loudly invite him to “come up to the lab” or shout “antici…...pation” at him. It was frustrating and amusing at the same time.

He spotted Alec across the street and the glorious blonde gave a small wave. Tim responded with a nod. Alec understood that Tim knew he was waiting and would hurry. As the last fan left, Tim dashed across the street.

“You should have stayed inside, baby. It's too cold for you to wait out here this long.” Tim ached to put his arm around Alec's shoulders and pull him close but he wouldn't. His credo prevented any public display of affection.

“Well, you're here now and we can grab supper then go home.” Alec gave him an affectionate smile and squeezed his shoulder gently. Tim pulled away. Alec exhaled slowly and shook his head. Not even that was allowed.

“Babe, let's just go home. I don't want to take a chance on being recognized tonight. Why don't we get some take-away or cook some eggs? I'm tired and it's cold.” Tim could hear how whiny he sounded but he was too fatigued to care. His luminous eyes burned from the frigid wind and his cheeks were chapped. He longed to be alone with his man, in the comfort of their warm home.

Alec stamped his feet, ostensibly to renew the feeling in them but also because he was annoyed. “Dammit, Tim. I don't ask you for much. I've waited out here for an hour. Is a nice supper too much to hope for?”

Tim felt ire building but held it in check. He didn't want to argue with his man tonight. He wanted to go home, make passionate love then fall asleep being spooned by Alec. If he was irritable, that wouldn't happen. If Alec wanted to go to a restaurant, he would acquiesce.

Surreptitiously, Tim reached for Alec's gloved hand and gave it a squeeze. “You're right. Let's get supper and then go home. Where would you like to go?”

Appreciating that Tim capitulated gracefully, Alec compromised by deciding on a restaurant near the theatre so they could easily grab a taxi home after the meal. His desire to accommodate was partially motivated by overwhelming lust. Something about watching Tim's portrayal of the looney, lustful, childish Mozart always aroused him. Beholding Tim in his element was always a delight but this role was perfect for him. He was very proud and savored Tim's success as much as Tim did.

“How about Sardi's? It's close and the food's good.” Alec expected Tim would welcome his efforts at appeasement by choosing a place that was close. Alec was mistaken.

Tim pulled his overcoat tighter and tugged his knit cap lower over his ears. He grimaced. “Sardi's? The food isn't that good and we don't have reservations. Choose some other place.” He was losing his battle with irritation.

Alec patted Tim's cheek playfully. “We don't need reservations, baby. This is New York and you're a star on Broadway. Amadeus is the most sought-after ticket in the City and that means everything!” 

He flashed a dazzling smile. “Well, it means you can get a good table in a restaurant but you'll still have to pay for the subway. Unlike a maitre d', public transit is no respecter of persons.”

“Fuck it. Alright. Sardi's. Let's go.” Tim wasn't happy but Alec was and that was enough for him right now. They lowered their heads as a buttress against the wind and headed down the street to the restaurant.

Alec was right, they were seated immediately. He ordered a glass of wine and Tim ordered a vodka. The waiter was pleasant and efficient and the drinks came right away as did the appetizers they'd ordered.

They talked about the performance and Tim allowed as how he was particularly proud of the work he had done that night. He had felt especially 'on,” and was pleased that the man he desired was impressed by his on-stage efforts. Most certainly as soon as supper was finished, there was a night of delight ahead. 

As they spoke, a dignified older man stopped beside their table. He was well-dressed, in a black wool suit with a black cashmere overcoat and blue-black hair that was liberally peppered with gray.

“I'm sorry to disturb you, sir. I understand that you are the actor who portrays Mozart in Amadeus.” The man seemed nervous but joyful and his joy was sincere.

“Yes, I am.” Tim's smiling sincerity, on the other hand, was an act.

Unlike London, in New York his meals out were sometimes interrupted by fans but they were usually Rocky Horror fans. Regardless, he felt he had given his performance for the evening and he wanted to take off his public mask and enjoy his time with Alec.

The stranger's familiar accent had been unexpected and Tim a felt tug of guilt over his impatience. “You're English.”

The man nodded. “Indeed I am and I'm always proud when an Englishman makes his mark on Broadway. I thoroughly enjoyed your performance. It was brilliant!”

Meeting a countryman, especially while in America, was almost always a pleasure so despite his fatigue, Tim smiled and tried to summon what little charm he might have at his disposal. “Thank you. I thought it went well tonight. You know, some nights are better than others and tonight felt very good. Are you on holiday?”

The man was pleased that Tim was amenable to conversing with him. “Yes, I'm here with my wife and son. My wife is finishing up at the table but she'll join us momentarily. She was adamant that I not disturb your supper but I felt strongly that I wanted to acknowledge your masterful portrayal. My wife and I frequent theatre on the West End and we make trips to New York at least twice a year to enjoy Broadway. My son is young but we often bring him along. He completely enjoyed himself tonight as well. He's gone back to the hotel to bed. The hotel provided a child-minder for him so that we could continue to a late supper.”

“I'm so pleased that you and your family enjoyed the play. Thank you for stopping by the table.” Tim decided he was too tired to charm anyone and so attempted to dismiss his admirer.

Alec caught his eye and with a slight inclination of his head, he encouraged Tim to spend a bit of time with the man. Unlike some of Tim's fans, this man seemed harmless and he would most likely remember this encounter with Tim for a long time. It may be a nuisance for Tim and Alec but what damage could it do?

Tim sighed deeply and summoned to the surface any bit of appeal he could find. “How nice for your son that you're introducing him to the theatre. When I was a boy, I loved musicals. Perhaps you're raising an actor.”

He smiled in spite of himself as he recalled how enthralled he had been with musicals as a kid. They were a treat for him and his sister. He supposed they had been greatly influenced by the musicals as he had become an actor and she had become a pianist; both musical in their way.

The man looked delighted. “I wouldn't be opposed to that. He loves to perform for us. When we entertain friends, he puts on a marvelous show for them. He has a lovely soprano voice and he loves to sing. Charming lad, if I say so myself. Talented as well!”

Tim laughed. “He sounds a lot like me as a child.”

The stranger beamed and reached to shake Tim's hand. “Basil Atherton. So very pleased to meet you.”

“Tim Curry. How do you do?” Tim's welcoming smile was genuine this time. Speaking with this man was not as much of an intrusion as he had expected.

At that point, Basil turned away and called out, “Darling, come and meet Mr. Curry!”

Tim rose from his seat and turned to see whom Basil was beckoning. His glittering eyes fell upon a beautiful redhead sashaying toward their little group. His gaze cruised her face and figure in a long-forgotten way. The cascade of fiery hair now reached only to her shoulders and was cut in a classic bob. His eyes were drawn to the sweetheart neckline of her royal blue dress that displayed her ample, creamy cleavage to the best advantage. She lowered her milk chocolate eyes and when she opened them wide, they were clouded and indecipherable. Her attention was anchored on Tim as she made her way to her husband. 

Tim's stomach lurched and he feared he might lose the little food he had eaten. He felt his body shut down and his palms began to sweat. He was flooded with memories, both loving and dire, but he remained outwardly composed. Irrationally, he wondered if she still smelled of freshly baked cookies. He offered her a nostalgic smile and she returned it.

Basil reached for his wife's hand to guide her into the little party. “Darling, this is Mr. Tim Curry, the actor who gave the marvelous portrayal of Mozart this evening. Mr. Curry, my wife Zara.”

Tim consciously reminded himself to breathe as the air inside the restaurant seemed suddenly thin. His heart beat like a jackhammer and he wondered if he would drop dead right where he stood. 

“Mr. Curry and I are old friends, Basil. We began our theatre careers together a hundred years ago. Of course, mine was short-lived, but he persevered. I could never have been the success that he's become.” Her beguiling smile couldn't mask the razor's edge to her tone.

*****


	7. Chapter 7

Despite Zara's best argument against it, Basil had been keen to see Amadeus. Had she simply told him the truth, that her former lover was one of the stars, he may have chosen a different play but she didn't. In preparation for the evening out, she had treated herself to a warm soak in the hotel's oversized tub. Enveloped by lavender-scented bubbles, she reflected on the years she had shared with Tim. The dramatic moment when he walked out the door for the final time was the scene she played over and over. She pinched the bridge of her nose, then closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. 

In her mind, she was back there – the abandoned woman on the sofa, shivering in the frosty bed-sit as Tim gathered his belongings and left her. To go to Los Angeles. To have a career. All the things they had dreamed of, he had chosen to do alone. Zara could feel her resentment rising. She had never been one to bear a grudge and now she fought the animosity she felt growing toward Tim. After all, he had been everything to her at one point in her life and, if she hadn't been with him then, her life would be very different right now. 

She allowed herself a moment to fantasize running into him after the show. It gave her a small thrill to think that Tim may not be all together pleased to see her again. She was unaware of the malicious grin that spread across her face when she recalled the his way his body stiffened and his bottom lip jutted out a tiny bit when he was uncomfortable. If you didn't know him well, you wouldn't even notice it. All the same, she hoped to only see him on stage tonight. That would be better for everyone.

*****


	8. Chapter 8

“Hello Tim. It's lovely to see you again.” Her smile was one of a person who has, with a single move, taken control of the chess board.

Although Zara realized that Tim would keep his emotions in check in public, she also knew he was incredibly sensitive and felt things deeply. She found herself trying to read the mystery in his eyes. She was grateful that regardless of what he actually felt, he would never show it in front of Basil. 

Tim had seen Zara's ruby red lips moving so he was aware she had spoken but he couldn't hear her words above the buzzing sound in his brain.

He moved to take her in a gentle embrace. “Zara! It's been such a long time. You haven't changed a bit.”

Her response was an amused smile. “You may be surprised, Tim.”

With Tim's reaction to her contained, Zara looked pointedly at Alec. Her curiosity was piqued by the stunning blonde man with the curious gaze. “Since Tim has neglected to make introductions, I shall do the honors. I'm Zara Atherton. This is my husband Basil.” 

Tim rushed to introduce Alec before he had a chance to speak. “This is my...” he paused and took a deep breath before continuing “….friend, Alec Blanchard. He's a doctor here in New York.”

Tim heard his own declaration and hated himself. He couldn't look at Alec. Describing the man he adored as a 'friend' was shameful. He was certain that his choice of words drew blood. He could only hope it would heal without scarring and that Alec would forgive him. 

Basil extended his hand and Alec shook it. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Doctor Blanchard. I apologize for interrupting your evening.” 

Alec graciously shook Basil's hand. Unlike Zara's seemingly clueless husband, he knew the exact nature of Tim and Zara's relationship. He recognized that everyone except the beautiful woman had been blindsided by this impromptu encounter. Judging from the way Tim's body stiffened and the slight protrusion of his bottom lip, Alec could guess what Tim was feeling but he wondered what was rumbling through her mind. Her facial expressions gave away nothing but the honeyed inflection of her voice intrigued him. 

Basil had been caught off guard at his wife's revelation that she and Tim were already acquainted. It was curious that she hadn't mentioned it when he had suggested they see the play in which Tim was starring. He determined that their relationship hadn't been of much importance to her. If the actor with the olive-colored eyes and wild mane of loopy curls had played any meaningful role in her life, she would have mentioned him long ago.

Ever the gentleman, Basil stepped up to take control. “Mr. Curry, Doctor Blanchard, I have thoroughly enjoyed our meeting but it's late and we must be on our way. I insist, and I know my wife will support me in this, that you join us at our hotel tomorrow for drinks. We have a suite at the Plaza and I'd love to spend more time with you, Mr. Curry, and of course Doctor Blanchard as well. We'd love to introduce you to our son, Cedric. He will be thrilled. He had a marvelous time tonight but had to return to the hotel. He's still young enough to have a bedtime.” Basil chuckled at his own joke.

Alec beat Tim to the punch. He could barely contain his fascination with Zara. She was as beautiful as Tim had said, but to keep Tim around for six years, there had to be more to her than physical beauty. “We'd love to. What time would you like us there?”

Tim could feel his guts burning. He glanced at Alec, and his eyes narrowed to slits. His voice was direct. “Alec, I'm sure the Athertons have things they would rather do with their limited time in New York than entertain us. They're being polite.”

Tim was irked at his lover. Alec knew that when Zara had evicted him from their bed-sit and her life, it had shaken Tim's very soul. Why was he eagerly accepting the invitation to spend time with her and her husband? Was this his payback for the 'friend' comment? 

Increasing his tension was Tim's uncertainty if Basil was oblivious to Zara's past with him or if he was playing cat and mouse. Either way, the last thing he wanted was to spend more time with them.

Zara chimed in. “Tim, you know quite well that we wouldn't have invited you if we had other plans. We'd love to entertain you in our suite.” 

She took her husbands arm and beamed up at him. “One of the things that first attracted me to Basil was his ability to be completely at ease in social situations. He does enjoy them so much as do I. Perhaps you recall that about me.”

Tim cringed inwardly as he rightly assumed that was a barb aimed at him. Tim had never felt totally at ease at parties or large gatherings of people. He was a people-watcher and he relished that aspect of fraternizing with strangers but nothing more. Although attending parties was part of his job, he was shy and anxious if he thought he was expected to do more than make small talk. Zara, on the other hand, reveled in attention and was the life of the party. They had rarely argued during their years together but when they did, Tim's loner tendencies were often a catalyst.

Alec flashed a boyish smile. “Tim still hates parties but no matter. We'd love to join you tomorrow. Just tell us what time. Tomorrow's Monday and the theatres are dark so we're free all afternoon.”

Tim inhaled a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He knew when he was beaten. “Of course, we'd love to spend more time with you. Thank you for the invitation.”

Basil clapped his hands together in approval. “Smashing! Shall we say tomorrow at 5 o'clock? Perhaps we shall dine together later.”

Tim nodded in reluctant assent and Alec offered a guileless grin. The couples bid each other goodnight and the Athertons took their leave.


	9. Chapter 9

Tim and Alec were once more alone at the table. 

Tim shot Alec a disgusted glance. What he intended as a whisper was actually more of a hiss. “What the fuck are you doing, Alec? You know damn well what happened between Zara and me! Now you're crawling up her ass.” He paused and then continued in a mocking voice, “Oh yes, Zara! We'd love to have drinks with you.”

Alec was quiet as he folded his linen napkin flawlessly and lay it next to his plate. His golden brows furrowed as his gaze settled on Tim with unnerving thoroughness. “I had expected you would be mature enough at this point to handle a few drinks with Zara and her husband. We'll discuss this at home. Are you ready to leave?”

Tim indicated he was, so Alec paid the bill. As luck would have it, their taxi driver was in a talkative mood so he and Alec prattled all the way to their apartment. Tim sat quietly seething, putting forth a herculean effort to keep his temper from exploding all over the backseat.

Alec had barely unlocked the door when Tim loosed his fury. “Have you lost your fucking mind? What the fuck was that? Watching you pander to them was one of the ugliest scenes I've ever witnessed!”

Alec took off his coat and hung it on the rack next to the front door. He poured a glass of vodka for each of them. “Drink this. Maybe it'll calm you down. If you want to discuss what happened, have a seat and we'll talk. If you'd prefer to have a temper tantrum then I'm going to bed. It's your choice.”

Tim flung his coat across the room and accepted the glass of vodka that Alec had brought him. He guzzled it, and slammed the glass on the coffee table. “There. Did that make you happy? I'm calm. Let's talk.” 

His words were much more reasonable than his rough tone of voice.

Holding his glass of vodka, Alec settled in the corner of the black leather sofa. Watching Tim angrily pace around the room, he managed to control his own exasperation. Tim was vexed enough for both of them.

“What the hell is going on, Tim? You haven't seen this woman for six years. You've been apart for at least as long as you were together. What are you holding on to? Maybe you can't stand the thought that she's happy without you. She has a husband and a child now. Zara has moved on with her life. She hadn't so much as mentioned to her husband that she knew you.”

Tim exhaled loudly and dropped onto an overstuffed leather chair adjacent to the sofa. He leaned forward, his hands clasped between his knees. 

After a moment, he spoke quietly, his voice husky with emotion. “I know you're right, Alec. She has a husband and a child. I doubt she spends a moment of her day thinking about me nor do I, on a normal day, spend a moment thinking of her. It seems she has a good life and I have a fantastic life as well.”

“If your life is so fucking fantastic, why are you so incredibly pissed off about having to spend a few hours with your ex-girlfriend and her husband?” Alec swallowed a drink of vodka and pondered for a moment. “Perhaps you're not as content with your life as you'd have me believe. Is that it?”

Tim said nothing for a bit, but leaned back in the chair mulling over Alec's words. “Of course that's not it. If you believe that then you don't know me at all, dear. I have the life I've always wanted and I'm sharing it with you, the person I'm meant to be with. I don't want to see her again, not because I'm unhappy in my life, but because I'm terribly happy. I don't want Zara or any memories I have with her to intrude on my current life or what we have together.”

He paused and drew a frazzled breath before continuing. “Alec, I know that I'm incredibly difficult to love. I'm eminently flawed so what we have isn't perfect. I don't think being in love can ever be paradise for anyone but being in love with you is the closest I've come.” 

Alec afforded him a rueful smile. “I think I heard that in a song a year or so ago.”

Tim forcefully blew air through his lips. “That doesn't make it untrue. I don't know what else to say to you.”

Alec rested his head on the back of the sofa and stared blankly at the ceiling. “I'm lost here, Tim. You have to help me. I know you don't love her but I have no idea what's really going on in your head.”

Tim rose and seated himself next to Alec on the sofa, resting his hand on his lover's leg and his head on the blonde's wrestler-like shoulder. “I love you more than I can ever say and I'm sorry if my outburst made you feel as if I don't.”

The beautiful blond sat perfectly still. His voice was tight. “That's an extraordinary statement coming from someone who's only a friend.” He couldn't pretend that Tim's words at the restaurant hadn't cut him.

“I'm sorry. Words failed me and I said the first thing that came to my mind.” Tim felt like a wormy apple for what he had said in front of Zara.

Alec grunted his disagreement. “Fuck, Tim, you can't even admit it here in the privacy of your own home. Words didn't fail you. You burst in before I could say a word and told them that I'm your friend. Friend. You know that hurt like hell. You wouldn't even tell her that we're lovers.”

He stopped speaking for a moment but Tim said nothing so he continued. “Maybe we aren't lovers, maybe we're just friends who fuck. Is that what you meant? We're fuck buddies?”

Tim raised his head off Alec's shoulder and placed his hand gently on his man's cheek, forcing Alec to face him. His heart was breaking to think how he'd hurt this man who meant everything to him. “No, baby, that's not the way it is with us. We're not fuck buddies. I've never loved anyone, and I mean anyone, the way I love you.”

He swallowed hard and spoke again in a low, smoky voice. “I don't know her anymore, maybe I never did. What I have with you is precious to me. It's not for everyone to know about and, honestly, I thought it none of her business. I wasn't ashamed of you. I could never be ashamed of you. Please forgive me. You know that I'm an asshole at times.”

Alec placed his arm around Tim's shoulder, cradling Tim's neck in the crook of his arm. He pulled him close and kissed the top of his head. “You really are an asshole but you're my asshole.”

He grinned broadly and spoke with his lips still against Tim's head. “That sounded so much better in my head.”

Tim chuckled at Alec's gaffe. “I don't want to be your asshole. Instead, let's say I'm a thoughtless bastard.”

“But you're my thoughtless bastard.” Alec again kissed Tim on the top of his head.

Tim reached up and kissed Alec's warm, full lips. “Yes I am. Your thoughtless bastard.”

Alec stood and stretched out his hand to his lover. “Come on, thoughtless bastard. I have plans for you.”

Tim took his hand and readily followed him to the bedroom. At that moment he chose to believe that all's well that ends well.

He would ponder the truth of that later.


	10. Chapter 10

The next day, Tim reluctantly accompanied Alec to the Plaza Hotel. Arriving at the hotel, they rode the elevator to the 19th floor, the Ellington Park Suite. Alec gave a low whistle as they knocked on the door. “How the other half lives, huh?”

Tim shot him a devilish smile. “Perhaps Basil swings both ways. If that's so, he certainly couldn't resist you, baby. Then we can all live the high life.”

“Jesus, you're hopeless.” Alec snorted causing them both to dissolve in a fit of giggles.

Basil opened the door and chuckled himself when he saw them sniggering. “I see that you're extremely happy to be here and we're equally thrilled to have you! Please come in.”

They exchanged looks of disbelief when the they entered the suite. This lodging was larger than the apartment that Tim and Alec shared. It was a formal setting, decorated in an Alice blue color with trim the hue of a gray goose. There were two bedrooms, joined by a hallway, and there were two bathrooms. The huge chandelier, centered on the ceiling of the living area, looked as though it had escaped from a ballroom somewhere. Additionally, Cedric had decorated the chambers with toys and books.

Their host ushered them into the living room and invited them to be seated. He then moved to the full bar, properly refrigerated, and poured high-end scotch for each of them. The glassware, of course, was crystal.

Tim looked around the room, completely dazzled by the grandeur. He flashed a disbelieving smile as he blurted, “This is incredible! Zara certainly has moved up in the world. The last time I saw her, she was freezing to death in our bed-sit.”

Basil wasn't certain he had heard correctly. “I beg your pardon. What is that you said?”

Realizing then that Basil had no idea about his past relationship with Zara, Tim attempted to recover. “Please forgive me, Basil. There are times when I blather on about nothing.”

Alec shot Tim a warning glance. “Yes, he does. Blather, blather, blather.” 

Tim shook his head, shrugged, and extended an apologetic smile. Until that moment, he hadn't been positive that Basil knew nothing of his history with Zara. He wouldn't have purposely revealed something that she had kept to herself. God, he hoped this was not a foreshadowing of how this engagement would go.

Basil cleared his throat. His brows knitted in a frown and he threw Tim an appraising glance. Clearly unsatisfied with what he observed, he shifted his gaze between Alec and Tim until he thought he understood. “I knew that Zara had lived in an unadorned manner in London. I hadn't realized that she had shared her diminutive bed-sit with you but that's exactly what I would have expected from my darling wife. Such a tender heart, always taking in strays even when she had so little herself.”

He caught himself quickly. He had truly intended no malice. “No offense intended toward you, Mr. Curry. Many have recovered successfully from lean times. You have, most certainly.”

Tim anxiously bounced his legs up and down where he sat. He felt like a child who had just been spanked and he wanted to get this visit over with. “Yes. Erm…..She is definitely tenderhearted and I suppose I was a stray. Is she here?”

“She took Cedric for a ride in one of those horse carriages in Central Park. He has begged for a ride since we arrived and she has a difficult time denying him anything. I tried to tell her that it's much too cold for such activity but she wouldn't hear of it.” His smiling pale gray eyes were the same color as the trim in their suite and Tim wondered if the trim had been painted to match.

Tim settled back into his chair and tried to relax. He was ill at ease with the very idea of this small gathering but without Zara it was nearly unbearable. Alec reached over and rested his hand on Tim's jumping knee. His whisper was no-nonsense. “Stop it. Behave yourself.”

Again, Tim felt spanked and he pulled an ugly face at Alec, who shook his head in response. “Hopeless.” This time his words weren't playful and he wasn't aware how loudly he had spoken.

“I beg your pardon.” Basil had joined them and had heard Alec's remark but hadn't seen the interaction leading up to it.

“I apologize, Basil. Tim said that he hoped one day I would be able to take him on a holiday like this one. I said it was hopeless.” Alec shrugged. 

Tim furrowed his brow and looked at Alec in amusement. “Oh yes, that was exactly our conversation.”

The look Alec shot him was a warning that he was on thin ice. Tim rolled his eyes and turned his gaze to the chandelier. He felt spanked for the third time in less than an hour. He would not allow that to happen again.

Basil looked at his watch, drawing their attention to it. It was a tank watch, somewhat similar in appearance to the one Tim wore but this one was a Vacheron Constantin. Tim successfully resisted the temptation to leap from his seat, grab the man's watch, and drool over it. It was beautiful. Alec's earlier remark about 'how the other half lives' came back to him. He hoped he would never have to worry about having this amount of wealth. It must be burdensome but, still, the watch was beautiful.

“I can't imagine what's keeping her. The boy has been out in this weather for far too long.” Basil gave a slight clucking sound as he spoke. His brows knitted together as he looked from his watch to the door to his guests several times.

“I'm sure she'll return at any moment, Basil. Say, Tim and I've been very curious, so if I may ask, what do you do for a living?” Alec hadn't wanted to ask. He knew that many people didn't like to discuss their line of work but he wanted to divert the man's attention from his uneasiness.

Realizing he was allowing Zara's absence to distract him from his guests, Basil turned to them with an ingratiating smile. “I'm terribly sorry. It wasn't my intention to ignore you.'

His concern for his family was still apparent but he directed his attention toward his visitors. “I'm in finance. It's a family affair, as may be said. My father was in finance as was his father before him. Although I will be proud of Cedric no matter his career choice, I can't help but hope that he will follow in the path of all the Atherton men who preceded him.” Any time he spoke of his son, his eyes lit up, giving a glow to his plump cheeks.


	11. Chapter 11

They heard a key turn in the lock and as they turned to see, a small bundle of winter clothes burst through the door. “Daaaaadeeeee!” The collection of energy darted across the room and into Basil's waiting arms. He pulled the knit cap from Cedric's head, revealing a mass of lush ringlets the color of cool tea. Basil let loose with a belly laugh as he pulled the boy close to him.

“Cedric,” he turned the boy gently to face their guests, “This is Mr. Curry and Doctor Blanchard. They're new friends of ours. Mr. Curry is the actor we saw in the play last night. He portrayed Mozart.” If there had ever been a father prouder of his son than Basil was, no one in the room had ever met the guy.

He turned to Tim and Alec. “Hello.” When Cedric spoke, his voice had the singsong nature of a happy child. He wound his hands around each other and he crossed his legs at the ankles. He looked rather like a human pretzel.

Basil helped Cedric out of his navy blue cashmere coat and the boy left it in his father's care. Basil handed it off to Zara, who hung it on a brass coat rack in the suite's entry way. Having removed her own winter wear, Zara hurried to her son and placed her long, graceful fingers on his small shoulders. Her smile was positively incandescent as she presented him. “Tim, this is our son, Cedric.”

Zara's phrasing of the introduction seemed very pointed, causing Alec to study Cedric closely. He was a beautiful child – olive-skinned with quirky curls covering his head, and eyes the color of a spring meadow. “Hello, Cedric. It's so nice to meet you.”

The boy's answer was a demure smile. Zara spoke up. “He's quite shy.” 

She squeezed her son's shoulders gently. “Darling, do you have something to ask Mr. Curry?”

Cedric lowered his head and then, with an upturned chin and a timid smile, peeked at Tim through long lashes. “Please Mr. Curry, will you sign my Playbill from last night? I enjoyed your play very much.”

“Of course I will, Cedric. I'm pleased you enjoyed yourself.” Tim felt an inexplicable connection to the shy little boy standing in front of him. “Zara, you and Basil have got a fine lad.”

Alec watched as Cedric bolted from the room in search of the Playbill. His inquisitive eyes flickered from Tim to Zara until the actuality dawned on him. Tim was in conversation with Basil about the play and seemed none the wiser. Alec felt a tightness in his belly as he observed how closely Zara was watching Tim with a melancholy smile. He wondered what she was thinking.

In no time at all, Cedric bounded back into the room, clutching a Playbill and a marker. He headed straight for Tim. “Here it is, Mr. Curry. Mummy said you would sign this for me.” 

Tim took them both in hand and gave the boy an indulgent smile. Before he could write a word, Cedric chirped at him. “Mr. Curry, do you know what? You look like me! You have green eyes like me! Mummy says that only unique people have green eyes. That means not many people have them, so that makes us extra special.” His childish stumble over the word 'unique' endeared him to Tim.

For the first time, the actor took an appraising look at the boy. Tim's body stiffened and his bottom lip jutted out slightly. The untrained eye would have never noticed the subtle change. “Cedric, how old are you?” He wasn't sure he wanted the answer but most certainly Zara would have told him…..

The child radiated joy. “I'm six. My birthday is July 8. Mummy says I'm her gift from heaven.”

Zara's smile and tone of voice were soft and almost apologetic. “Do you need help with the math, Tim? That was never you're strongest point.”

“I'm not a genius, Zara, but I'm numerate.” His voice was snappish. His eyes were veiled and his expression grim. He couldn't bring himself to so much as glance at Alec. The thought of what he might see broke his heart.

Tim's eyes lingered on the boy. He cursed himself for not seeing it sooner. The sea-colored eyes, the mop of curls….. 

When he raised his gaze to Zara's, she saw the truth blazing in his eyes like torches. He knew. The relief engulfed her. For better or worse, Tim knew. She released the breath she had been holding. There was no going back for either of them.

Zara slipped a sideways glance at Alec who seemed suddenly tense and then at Basil, whose attention was currently occupied by a figurine that had been on the table. She was relieved that her sweet husband was not part of this revelation. She felt grateful now for Basil's fickle attention span that sometimes wandered in social situations; he liked to flit from person to person much as a bee from flower to flower. She also correctly surmised that, after learning she and Tim were old friends, he wanted to give them some time to catch up.

“Mr. Curry? Is something wrong? Don't you want to sign it?” Cedric's sweet voice was tinged with concern and the fear that, somehow, he had done something wrong.

Tim put his hand on the boy's shoulder and rubbed it gently. “Oh yes, I want very much to sign it but I want to write something special. I want it to be perfect for you.” 

Zara's eyes met his and the gaze was strong, unblinking. She was overwhelmed by the warmth she felt as watched her son with his father. She had no idea what would come next but she knew she would remember this moment for the rest of her life.

“Tim, it doesn't have to be War and Peace. Just write 'To Cedric and sign your name.” Her voice shook with emotion.

Tim nodded his head. It was all he could do to take his eyes off Cedric long enough to autograph the Playbill. He signed it 'To Cedric, Fondly, Tim Curry.' He wasn't certain of the etiquette involved in signing an autograph for a child you just learned you had fathered.

“Thank you very much, Mr. Curry.” Cedric took back the book and the marker, and showed it to his mother.

“Oh yes, that's very nice, darling! We will find a lovely frame for that. It's much more special than any of the others you have.” She cherished the beaming smile on the child's face. One day he would learn exactly how important this autograph was.

“Basil, darling, would you take Cedric in for a bath? It will be time for dinner soon and he should be ready for bed shortly after he eats.” She turned to Tim and Alec. “He will dine in the room with a child-minder while we dine downstairs.”

Tim nodded blindly at her words. He heard them but didn't take them in. Alec squeezed his shoulder gently, mentally flogging himself for insisting they join the Athertons for this debacle. “Are you alright?”

Tim turned his eyes to his lover. “Yes….I'm fine. Really, I'm fine.” His lips turned upward as if he were smiling but he wasn't. His gave it his best effort but the smile wouldn't come. His mind was reeling but he had no words to express it. For one normally so eloquent, Tim was rendered mute.

Alec stood up and cleared his throat. As much as he wanted to make certain that Tim came out of this relatively unscathed, he knew he didn't belong in whatever discussion was to follow. “I need to get a pack of cigarettes. I'll be back in a bit.” 

Tim watched as Alec walked out the door, fearing that this might be the last time he saw him. Neither of them could have anticipated the afternoon heading in this direction. Shit. He had tried his best to convince Alec that this date was ill-conceived. He sighed heavily, knowing that none of this was Alec's doing. This was all between him and Zara.

“My God, Zara. Why didn't you tell me?” Tim's voice was husky with emotion.

Zara walked to the one of the oversized windows and stared unseeing in the direction of Central Park. She hugged herself tightly. Her initial warm and fuzzy feelings over this moment had been revealed as fantasy and now their true reactions would emerge. “You never gave me a chance, Tim. You were so full of Rocky going to Los Angeles. I told you that I had news as well but you never asked me what it was. You just blurted out your news, called me a bitch, and stormed out.”

Tim moved to stand near but not close to her. He also gazed out a window at the Park and attempted to collect his thoughts into something coherent before he spoke. He didn't want to show the anger he felt as he knew that would end this conversation before it began. “That's not exactly the way it happened, Zara. You were pissed off before I got home. You picked a fight with me that night, more than one actually. At any time you could have said, by the way, Tim, I'm pregnant, but you didn't! You said you had no intention of going to America and pushed me out the door! You packed my things and drove me out! I didn't want to go. I fucking begged you. You didn't care if I never knew I had a son! In fact, it seems that you would have preferred that I never know! What kind of woman does something like that? I wasn't a one-off, for fuck's sake! We were in love. We were going to marry!”

She turned on him with more fire than she had felt in years. “Were we, Tim? Were we really going to marry? I shared your bed for six fucking years and we talked about it over and over! We planned it but you never asked me properly! You would never set a date with me! Then you took the first opportunity you got to walk out of my life! Out of your child's life! I thought you'd come back to me when you were finished with Rocky, but you didn't. You were in a show on the West End and you never even looked for me so don't you dare accuse me of keeping your son from you! You were the one who left, not me!”

Zara thought she might spontaneously combust with anger. For six years she had wondered what it would be like if Tim learned about Cedric. She had pictured him taking them both in his arms and marveling over their son. She was guilt-ridden over that fantasy each time she had It, as if she were being unfaithful to the husband she genuinely adored. Although she knew she would never leave the man she loved, it would be wonderful if Tim wanted her to leave, if he wanted to claim her and their son. It might begin to make up for all of the anguish she suffered after he left and before she met Basil. Mentally, she kicked herself for expecting anything other than Tim's wrath. She knew him well enough to know that he didn't like surprises and this was one hell of a surprise. Still, she wanted to curse him and flail at him. Instead she dropped her hands to her side and clinched her fists, not to threaten but to control whatever impulse may try to overtake her.

Tim turned so that he was facing the room, leaning his back against the windowsill. He folded his arms across his chest and stared at the floor. Fighting with Zara wouldn't accomplish anything. He told himself he had every right to be furious, and he was, but this would get him nowhere.

She continued to stare in the direction of the Park. Tim turned his head to watch her and he saw a few tears roll down her cheek. He recalled the two times in their relationship when Zara had been angry enough to cry. He well knew to tread cautiously with her.

In spite of his fury, he spoke softly. “Zara, I don't want to fight with you. I know you blame me for leaving and I blame you for not coming with me or at least telling me about Cedric so that I had a choice. We can toss around blame all day but it won't do either of us any good.”

She harrumphed at his words, then walked across the room, and poured them both a glass of vodka, neat. She handed one to him them seated herself on the sofa, hoping the fight was over but the roiling in her gut told her that most likely it wasn't. “When you first left, I was so hurt I wanted to die. I lost my job at the cafe because I couldn't make myself get out of bed. I kept telling myself to get up but I couldn't do it.” 

Her eyes were cold as she faced him. “So after I got sacked, I couldn't afford the bed-sit and I went back to my mum's. Oh, she was so happy to have me there. She did everything she could to overlook the fact that I was pregnant but when Cedric was born, both she and my dad adored him.” She smiled ruefully at Tim, “You know neither she nor my dad liked you very much.”

Tim seated himself in one of the blue wing chairs and sipped his vodka slowly. “I do recall that. I think they hated me actually. An actor who had no more chance of success than a snowball in hell. They always said I wasn't good enough for you and that I'd break your heart one day. As it turns out they were right. I did break your heart but you broke mine as well.”

“Tim, what I know now is that if you hadn't left, I would never have met Basil. He came to Whitstable on holiday and I met him whilst I was working at my father's restaurant. I couldn't believe a man like Basil would look twice at someone like me but he did.” As she spoke about Basil, her voice took on a dreamy quality that matched the faraway look in her eyes.

She continued and Tim wondered if she was even aware he was still in the room. Her smile was ethereal. “He was so kind to me. He said he knew I'd been badly hurt by someone I'd loved but that he would wait for me until I was ready to love again. I couldn't believe anyone would want me enough to wait for me but he did. Cedric was two when Basil met him and he thought my boy was the most wonderful child in the world. He still does. He took him as his own son and he's been so good to him...you wouldn't believe.”

Zara took a moment just to breathe. She was still angry at Tim but she had realized something else over the years they had been apart. She had come to understand that it was never his intent to hurt her or abandon her. Tim had to follow his own path and he'd done that but recognizing that fact in no way negated the anguish it had caused her at the time. Still, she was surprised at the resentment she held toward the father of her child. She swallowed hard, trying to chase away the ill will that was rising anew like bile in her throat.

Observing his indecipherable expression closely, she continued calmly, because in spite of her resentment, she wanted to end the hostility that they both clearly felt. “Basil is unable to have children of his own. That was the reason he'd never married. He said that when he met me, he finally believed he could have the family he'd always wanted. It's not every man, especially of Basil's station, that would love and accept another man's child as his own. He loves us both so very much. You've seen how good he is with Cedric. He's never even asked me who Cedric's father is. He told me once that he doesn't want to know. He believes that if he knows who the man is, it'll be much harder for him to think of Cedric as only his. You see, Tim, Basil will never agree to share his son with you.”

Zara could hear Tim's teeth grind and he squeezed his eyes tightly. When he opened them again, the look he gave her could have peeled the skin from her bones. Bolting from the chair, he paced the room wildly. “His son? Cedric is only Basil's son because you made certain that I never knew he existed! How nice that you were able to use my child to secure yourself a rich old man to dote on you.”

Those words were like daggers in her heart. Zara felt her cheeks flame and she spat her words at him. “Is that what you think? Perhaps you'd rather believe that lie than acknowledge the truth! You walked out on the woman who adored you and your unborn child so that you could be a star in America!”

She paused for a moment, trying to shut down the words that were forcing themselves to the surface. “Then you found a man to keep you warm at night! Or was it men? How many were there, Tim? Is that why you left me? Did you replace me with a boyfriend? Someone who knew you could never marry him? I see who you're with and I know exactly what's going on! You can call Alec your 'friend' for the rest of your bloody life but that doesn't change the fact that when you're in the mood for a shag, he's the one you go to!”

Zara heard the viciousness in her voice but she couldn't stop it. Six years of anger and pain boiled over as she faced the man she believed had discarded her. “I should have known what you wanted. I suppose you were always a poof and I chose not to see it! Does the magnificent Alec realize that you'll leave him, too – just as you left me? Or does he think that he has Happily Ever After with you? If that's what he thinks, you should tell him that happily ever after is a bloody fairy tale.”

Tim had a fleeting thought that he might truly lose his mind. He put forth a valiant struggle to retain his sanity during this argument but he felt every iota of reason scampering out of his reach. 

Standing several arm's lengths from her, he pointed his finger ferociously in her direction. When he spoke, his voice was gruff. “That's bull shit, Zara! I told you from the first that I fancied men as well as women. I never hid that from you and it has nothing to do with why you shut me out of my son's life! Alec has nothing to do with what happened between us! I hadn't even met him then and I was completely faithful to you!”

A cruel laugh tumbled from her red lips. “Oh, I'm certain of that, Tim! You had no reason at all to cheat on me! I cooked for you, I cleaned for you, I paid your bills, and then I was your whore in bed! You had it all with me but it wasn't enough. You had to go to America to be a star.”

She paused for a moment, her chest heaving with each impassioned breath. “You know, I don't think that's quite true. I don't think you wanted to be a star. You always said that wasn't what you wanted and perhaps I've lost the plot but I believe that. I think what you wanted was the adventure! You loved that they wanted you to do Frank in America! THEY wanted YOU to go to Los Angeles and that was more important than anything you had at home! That was the most important thing to you and the only thing that mattered!”

Although her words stung, Tim realized there was truth in what she said. He had been exceedingly flattered by Lou Adler's insistence that he was the only one who could do the role in Los Angeles. Comparing Adler's professed need for him with Zara's seeming disregard for his feelings and his career had made the choice relatively easy. Of course, having his bags packed and being ordered to leave had helped him decide but the ending to their relationship continued to haunt him. Apparently, it haunted her as well.

Tim swallowed his pride along with a gulp of vodka and felt the hard edges soften. “You're right, Zara but I honestly believed you didn't want me any longer. I didn't realize it at the time, but you're right when you say I wanted to go to Los Angeles regardless of the cost. I know now that you were the one who paid the cost. I thought you wanted me gone and that we'd both just go on with our lives. I had no idea that…...” he paused and inhaled deeply, “there was more to it than that.”


	12. Chapter 12

Neither of them noticed that Alec had slipped quietly back into the room. He stood silently beside the door to the suite, trying to make himself a fly on the wall. He, too, was shaken by the developments of the day. After buying cigarettes, he had taken himself for a few drinks in the Plaza's Rose Club. 

He sat alone at a quiet table and reflected on how this afternoon would change Tim's life and, most likely, his own. Mentally, he berated himself. Tim hadn't wanted to go for drinks. He hadn't wanted to spend any time at all with the Athertons but Alec had insisted. He had no idea why that had been so important to him. Perhaps he wanted to be certain that a lasting love for the redhead wasn't the reason Tim had sworn off falling in love with anyone else. Perhaps Alec needed to be certain that Tim's professed love for him was real, untainted by any remaining fondness for Zara. Alec realized that he considered Zara to be the great love of Tim's life and he was envious. He had wanted, no he had needed, to see Tim treat her coldly. He had needed to see Tim reject any softness that she showed him. 

He shook his head and his mouth formed a defeated smile. His need to defeat Zara, to be certain that she had been completely shut out of Tim's life, had certainly blown up in their faces. Instead of their time with the Athertons ending with Alec feeling smug and confident in his relationship with Tim, it would no doubt end with Tim full of despair and Alec feeling guilty as hell. The situation was tragic for all of them. As he sipped his bourbon and settled deeply into brooding, Cedric's beaming face flashed before his eyes. Fuck. The only innocent people in this miserable situation were Cedric and Basil. Alec feared they might suffer most of all.


	13. Chapter 13

Tim slumped into one of the Alice blue chairs, wondering if it was still Monday. In truth the bitter argument hadn't lasted all that long but it was exhausting and he felt as though he had been beaten up. His lolled his head onto the back of the chair and let loose a heavy sigh.

Across from him, Zara dropped into a chair of her own. She couldn't remember ever being that vicious toward anyone, even the stranger who beat her out of the only empty space in the car park on the day before she delivered Cedric. She had given that stranger an earful before she saw that the parking spot thief was a little old man who could barely close the car door on his own. As bad as she had felt after that outburst, she felt worse when she heard Tim's world-weary sigh.

Basil stuck his head around the corner and peered into the lounge, speaking tentatively. “It was a bit loud in here, darling. Is all as it should be?”

Zara tiredly waved him off. “Yes, dear. Tim and I had a bit of unsettled business between us but I believe it's all settled now. It's safe to enter if you'd like to join us.”

Suddenly, she jerked upright in the chair. “Did Cedric overhear?”

Basil eased himself partially into the room, still wary. “Oh no, Cedric didn't hear a thing. He used our bath so he was behind that door and the bedroom door was closed as well. He was singing and splashing about so neither of us heard a thing. I heard loud voices only because I came to tell you that I have him tucked into our bed. He seems to have a bit of a fever and I want to keep an eye on him. I'll lie down with him and keep the door closed to the bedroom lest you have any further unfinished business. No need for worry, darling.” He cast a disapproving eye at Tim and exited the room as Zara slumped again into the chair.

Alec decided that if Basil were brave enough to weather this eye in the storm, he might as well take a shot. “I'm back, you know, if anyone cares.” His attempt at humor fell flat.

Zara smiled weakly at the returning blond and then with great effort, Tim raised his head. “I'm glad you're back, baby.” 

Alec raised his brows in surprise at the word 'baby.' Tim limply lifted his faltering hand and dropped it back onto the arm of the chair. “She knows, Alec. It appears she saw through my 'friendship' ruse. You were right and I was a jerk for saying that in the first place.”

Zara chimed in. “Yes, you were. I knew the truth the moment I saw him. As you pointed out, you told me from the first about your bisexual bent and Alec is quite a piece.”

Alec blushed ferociously. “I wasn't expecting that. Thank you, Zara.” Given his jealousy toward her, he was conflicted over the compliment. It felt a bit like the enemy trying to win him over.

He moved to sit at the end of the sofa that was closest to Tim. “The two of you had quite a battle in here. I don't see any casualties though, so that's promising.”

“That's because all of the wounds are internal.” As he spoke, Tim stretched his hand toward his lover. Alec reached out and took hold of his hand, squeezing it.

“So what do you want to do, Tim?” Alec chose to proceed with caution. Although he didn't want to disturb the uneasy peace that existed, his loyalty was to his man. “I mean, now that you know you have a son.”

Zara shot out of her chair, like a pistol at the starting gate. “No, Alec! You are very, very wrong! Tim does not have a son! Basil has a son! My loving husband has a son! Basil is the one who tucks Cedric into bed each night! Basil is the one who accompanied Cedric on his first day of school! And my kind, selfless husband is the one lying next to our feverish son as we speak! So, no, Alec! Tim does not have a son!” 

As her rant concluded, she stood with her hands clinched in fists resting on her hips, daring either of them to dispute her statement.

It took every bit of strength Alec had to remain seated. She had relaunched her attack on Tim because Alec had said the wrong thing and he felt fiercely protective. Clearly, Zara was wrong. Of course Cedric was Tim's son. Tim had fathered the child. It wasn't Tim's fault that Zara hadn't told him that she was pregnant. Surely, Tim had legal rights in this situation. “Tim, what do you think?”

Tim understood Zara. He now knew the reason she had made him leave the bed-sit. He realized that she had known him better than he had known himself. Had she told him that she was pregnant, he would have married her and stayed with her to raise the child. No doubt, at some point he would have resented her as the cause of him staying in London rather than going to Los Angeles. If the career he wanted to have eluded him, he would have blamed her and it would not have taken many years for their love to turn to hate. She had made an incredible sacrifice to do what was right for all of them and, if the two couples hadn't come together for drinks this afternoon, Tim might never have known. He realized he owed her more than he could ever have guessed.

“Tim? What do you think?” Having not received an answer, Alec repeated his question.

Still holding Alec's hand, Tim squeezed it. He sounded very tired when he spoke. “What I think is that I've done all the fighting I can do tonight.”

Hearing Tim's defeated tone, Zara seated herself but her gaze was watchful and she remained vigilant, ready to resume the fight to protect her family in a heartbeat.

Tim rose from his chair and went to her. He knelt in front of her and took both of her hands in both of his. He kissed her hands softly, remembering how many times they had touched each other with love. He searched her eyes, saddened by the depth of the pain reflected there and knowing he was the cause. 

His voice was gentle. “Zara, you don't need to defend your family against me. I understand now, I really do. Had I known you were pregnant, I would have done things differently. I wouldn't have gone to Los Angeles. You knew that and you loved me enough to make me leave. If I had stayed, neither of us would have the life we have now. You have an incredible life and you deserve it. Basil clearly adores you and Cedric. He's the only father the boy has known and anyone who had a heart wouldn't do a thing to change that. I don't want to take anything away from him or from you.”

The deep, rich brown of her eyes met the cool spring meadow of his. He continued, “I'm sorry, Zara. I'm sorry for all of it. Well, not all of it. I'm not sorry I loved you and I'm definitely not sorry that we made that little boy. I'm sorry that I wasn't the man you needed me to be six years ago and I'm sorry that I've hurt you again today. I know that I'm not in a position to ask anything of you but I have to.”

She raised her head, her liquid eyes darting from Tim to Alec before settling on Tim. Her voice was tremulous. “What is it you're asking, Tim? I can't promise...”

He kissed her hands again. “I know that what I'm asking is huge, Zara, believe me I know it. When Cedric is old enough to ask about his father, I want you to tell him who I am. If he wants to find me, I'm asking that you help him. I won't ever try to find him or contact either of you, that would only hurt him. I won't force myself into his life and I won't interfere in the relationship that he has with Basil. You have my word on that but if he wants to find me and if he wants to know me, then I ask you to please help him because I very much want to know him. I know I'm not his dad but I am his father. Will you do that for me, Zara? Please?”

Tears of relief slid freely down her face, causing rivulets of mascara to cascade down her cheeks. She admitted to herself that Tim was now the one making a huge sacrifice and she couldn't let it go unappreciated. She nodded her head and her voice was barely audible. “I will, Tim. I promise you that I'll do that.”

He tenderly caressed her hands. “Thank you, Zara. It's the last thing I'll ever ask of you.”

He stood and she inclined her head to see his face. He lightly stroked her cheek and cradled her chin in his hand. 

It had been years since he had seen the gracious smile she offered him and it thrilled him to see it once more. He turned to Alec, who was standing near him. He gave his lover a tired but genuine smile. “Let's go home. I need a stiff drink and some beauty sleep.”

He kissed Zara on the cheek. “Goodbye, lovely.”

 

**************


End file.
